


Friendly Wagers

by AceQueenKing



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Isabella and Cullen play cards in Skyhold's courtyard, where a friendly wager turns into something much more.





	Friendly Wagers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kauri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kauri/gifts).



She smiles at the bloodbath before her, Cullen's pair of queen of thorns neatly under fire on all sides by her all flower suite. The seas may have kept her at Syhold far longer than her preference, but at least she's got luck when it comes to the cards. 

"I don't believe it," he says, placing his hands over his eyes as he tries to delay the inevitable. "How did you get so good at cards? You're a pirate!"

Isabela leans back in her chair, putting her boot up on the meager chess table the inquisition holds. This isn’t her kind of place, a courtyard, but even if the fancy stylings of Skyhold make her skin itch, being out in the courtyard, particularly in as dark a night as this, is alright, if a bit chilly. She certainly hasn’t dressed for the weather. Her skirt is short enough to give him a peak though she does not point this out. She is a temptress, and such things are meant to be played delicately. His eyes turn toward her and blush, then he looks away. The entire transaction is but for a second, yet it is enough.

"I'm nothing if not observant," she says, dryly. Her toe flexes, providing him an opportunity to note the tautness of her calves. His eyes do not dare to meet her own, suddenly very focused on shuffling the cards. "A captain always needs to be aware of all the potential moves one can make on the high seas, you know. Besides, I've had lots more... Matches, let's say, than you have."

"I meant no offense," he says, a bit too quickly. She knows he didn’t, the lamb. He has underestimated her, as most do. He lets the suggestion of her many wicked grave matches lay unchallenged. In a more ribald man, she'd think that was a lack of interest, but Cullen all but shaking hand makes her think the boy is just shy.

"One more game, hm?" She reaches out one hand toward her leg, ostensibly stretching and certainly not doing so to inch her skirts up to the point where a chantry sister might not only be scandalized, but outright blinded. If he leaves when she's like this, well, no harm done, she'll let the Templar go. But it would be a shame to need to go find another when whiskers is right here.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea... “He draws, his words stumbling as he grimaces and pulls out pockets laid bare of coin.”You've taken all I've got to spare."

"Not all," Isabela says, though she had certainly made a tiny profit. "We could simply exchange a set of favors. You can owe me one or I'll owe you one next time I'm in Port. And each of us can veto any idea, as long as they eventually pull through."

He looks at her eyes, which takes some doing now that she has shown so much skin, and smiles, if shakily. "Any favor?"

"Even if you want to wear the hat." She winks. After one more moment, he nods. The pinkness to his cheeks suggests he knows what he wants, and in a split second she decides to throw the hand if only because he thought of him dirty talking her has already made her wet.

She spreads a hand and lets one bruise his knuckle as he hands her a card. Cullen almost flies backward and she hides a smirk behind her hand. Maker, you could take the man out of the chantry but the chantry seemed to hang on stubbornly, which was certainly unfair in so handsome a man. And certainly, she has to admit, Cullen has cleaned up nicely after leaving Kirkwall.

She'll just have to pull that chantry boy out of him. Preferably with her own hands. Or mouth. Really, Isabela is flexible.

That's part of being a good pirate captain too.

The hand is disappointingly good. Six, seven and eight of thorns, queen of arlathan, prince of the lost thaig. A good hand, damn. Figures. The one time she has tried to lose... Oh well. It will make losing challenging but what can she say? Isabela has always loved a challenge.

"you must have a better hand than I," he grumbles, his eyes laced with something that might be jealousy or might be lust - either way, what fun.

"A good poker face is part of being a pirate queen as well," she says, diplomatically smiling. She tilts the hat and is rewarded with a stuttering response.

"I-I suppose," he murmurs. She is pretty sure the chantry boy's face is as red as a tomato, and she can't help but wonder if other parts of him are just as red. She is certainly ready to go; something about the innocent look combined with the scars that suggest he's lived through his share of damage drives her wild.

Besides, who didn't spend time in Kirkwall and wind up damaged? They are still here that's what matters.

Fortune has always favored the brave. Isabela tosses a four down, only to have Cullen instantly take the trick with a six.

"Ha," he says, grinning at her. "Finally some luck. "

"Hm," she says, giving her best riviani smile from behind her cards. "You might be able to follow, but can you lead?"

He frowns studiously, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he studies his cards and Isabela studies him. He's certainly improved with age; the mustache did him no favors.

"How about this?" he murmurs with all seriousness, tossing down a queen of thorns.

"Leading with a woman?" she smirks, tosses down a jack of roses. "I always prefer a woman on top as well.”

He catches the innuendo and sucks in a harsh breath; his non-card-holding hand goes between his legs and she is certain that he is squeezing his cock to relieve some pressure.

Unfortunately for Cullen, Isabela doesn't plan to let his pressure be relieved. Not yet, anyway.

She uses the pause in the action to undo her doublet, lets her bounties spill just a bit further out than she normally lets them. The soft pebbling of her nipples should just lightly be visible, she knows from practice.

Cullen swallows, tosses down another card without a single word. He's breathing heavily now, and so is she, if only to illustrate her heaving bosom.

She tosses a card and the games quickly the last two hands: he takes the third trick and Isabela, out of subpar cards, takes the last 2. But 3 to 2 is still a win, and Bella gets up at the end of the hand, stretching lightly.

"Looks like I owe you a favor," she purrs, slinking like the cat she is as she closes the meager distance between them. His eyes stay on her, and she bites her cheek to not comment on the obvious straining - and sizable - erection that clearly longs to burst free.

"Oh," he says, his face ruddy. He puts his hands over his rather obvious cock, but doesn't quite succeed in hiding it. "I uhm - I--”

"Say it," Bella hisses, daring to lean down and kiss him. He's not a bad kisser; for all he plays the novice, he doesn't kiss like one.

"I want you," he says, in a hoarse whisper, and it doesn't take more than that for Isabela to climb into his lab. He moans, his hands finding her hips as she grinds against his cock.

"Maker," he whispers as she tucks her hands into that wavy hair - she'd always loved his hair. "Should we.... Retire? "

"No," she says, slowly sliding down his legs until she's kneeling between them. Her cunt aches, but she wants this to last; letting him come once now will let they both come more later.

"Let them watch." She chuckles and moves her hand to part his pants and he helps, undoing the clasp and giving her access through his small clothes. She parts the sails and hoists his mast.

It’s a spectacular cock, she thinks, admiring it for a moment. Thick enough she can just barely get her hands around it, tall enough to taper delicately to a proud head, but not so much of either as to be uncomfortable.

She smiles and hums as she gently licks at it, tasting the salty-sweet taste of his skin. He moans in pure encouragement, and she hums with the heady delight of pleasuring him. His lips part in a wanton sigh as she takes him back into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around the bulbous head. She digs into his thigh with her fingers, combining pain with pleasure.

"Slower," he murmurs, gently placing one hand on her head, as if she was some high-and-mighty princess. She isn't, but she appreciates it far better than her old ball and chain, which used to leave more than her jaw sore when he twisted her hair like she was little better than a mop.

She has always preferred the gentler ones.

There's nothing like a good hard fuck,sure, but it's more fun to teach the gentler ones to lose control than to try to teach the mean ones to play nice. His hand gently plays with her hair, and when she backs off for a moment, only stroking him with her hand, he smiles.

"Don't want the fun to end too soon," he says, through ruddy cheeks. He glances toward the door as if someone besides an insomniac and a pirate queen would be out in a courtyard this late.

"Oh, this?" She squeezes at his base as she swirls her tongue around his cock, gloriously messy and wet, and he jerks in her hand, hips straining to make her take more. Which, she will, but Bella has never met a man she hasn't enjoyed teasing.

"Just a prelude, my dear," she says, thumb sliding over the head of his cock. "A quick pop off to make the next one last."

She doesn't wait for a reply after that, widening her jaw and taking him deep. He yelps, but doesn't move away; the hand holding her hair gently presses her closer, encouraging her.

She pats his thigh before going for the kill, deep throating him with a vigor that has brought lesser men to their knees before she even took them fully. Cullen lasts through that, though not for long. He comes with only a small groan, and she swallows, though she swallows, the salty-sweet taste making her homesick for the sea.

“That was…” He huffs, leaning backward. He’s as red as a tomato and shakes his head ruefully. “Incredible.”

“Oh darling,” she coos softly, winking as she climbs from her knees into his lap. His cock twitches; a short refractory period, eh? Good. “We’re just getting started. Didn’t I tell you? Always prefer a woman on top.”

He says nothing in response, just kisses her, and Isabela grins.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he says, voice shy as a chantry boy, which, Isabela supposes, he is.

“Well, remember, this is all me, not your Maker,” she says with a wink, and then she kisses him. There’s nothing schoolboy about that; she slides her tongue in and grabs that curly hair, lets her hips gyrate around him. He hisses, grabs her hips and helps her shove here top up enough to let nature take it’s course.

She expects he’ll hesitate, do something to slow the moment, but he doesn’t; he kisses her sweetly as he enters her, both of them groaning. It really is a nice cock, she thinks.

He chuckles breathily, saying simply “thanks” and she realizes she’s spoken that out loud. If she was still the meak little woman she once was, she’d apologize, but Isabela, Pirate Queen, just laughs and grabs his hands, placing them on her breasts.

She sets the pace, and a relatively fast one at that. His fingers explore her breasts gently; one finger flicks a nipple and she groans in encouragement, low but enough. It’s late, after all, late enough no one but her and her chantry mouse should be waking. She rides him like she rides the waves, undulating in a rocking motion that makes his breathing uneven.

One of his hands wanders lower, parts her folds to press into her clit. “Yes,” she moans in soft groans, kissing his neck as he presses his thumb against her clit, gently rubbing in small circles.

She feels a fleck of wetness on her cheek and looks up, surprised, as the same unruly sky that frustrated her journey now opens back up on both of them, sprinkling her and Cullen both with rain.

“Bollocks,” he murmurs into her shoulder and she just laughs, kissing his neck and tensing against his hand. Oh, she’s close now.

“Keep doing that,” she murmurs; one of his hands grips her ass as the other draws lazy then driven swipes against her clit; perhaps not quite so much a chantry boy as she thought. He’s certainly got skill, she thinks; she feels the white lightning building in her back and ups the pace, and Cullen matches her tempo.

Skill indeed. Just not in cards. She loses herself in the extasy, moaning like a common gutter whore, and Cullen drives her higher and higher, his face a perfect tomato-red from the exertion.

When she comes, she throws her head back in a low-throated groan; it is too much for her, and she feels him gasp hard and follow her a few seconds later. She chuckles breathlessly in the rapidly rain-soaked courtyard; she realizes, with a dim gasp, that they’ve both forgotten all about the playing cards. She glances back to find Cullen’s deck ruined.

“It’s alright, they’re just cards.” He waves his hands. “My fault, really.”  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself, sunshine,” she says with a wink. She slides off of him and adjusts her skirt-dress back to a dress, cages the girls. “I’ll pick you up another deck while I’m out privateering. What kind of deck do you want — Orlesian? Riviani? Ferelden? Antivian? Oh, I know – what about Tevinter? Give your betting a bit of a scandalous tone.”  
  
“Surprise me.” He says; he places a hand on her shoulder, squeezes it tight. Somehow, in the wet early-morning light, his curls haven’t quite come undone, though they’re getting quite a bit damper. “You’re not going anywhere in this weather. What say you we go back to my quarters?”  
  
“Already ready for round 3?” She raises an eyebrow. Maybe she’s underestimated Cullen.

“I uh, I mean…” The bumbing nervousness is back again. “I mean, if you’d like, but we can just…enjoy a hearth fire, should that be your preference. Really. It’s a better bed than whatever that grumpy old dwarf is charging a fortune for in the inn.”  
  
Sex and savings? Isabela knows a bargain.

“Lead the way,” she says, snorting and sashaying behind him. Maybe she can get used to the fancy places in Skyhold, after all. At least she has Cullen around to keep her warm.


End file.
